Page 87 of The Good Guy on My Porch

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” she asked.

“I called, and you didn’t answer. I was worried.”

Her brow furrowed. “We must not have heard the phone ring from the bathroom, but I thought you said you weren’t going to call anymore.”

“I…I know I said that, but I…”

“It’s okay,” Momma said, her voice tremulous. “Maybe just call me at the end of your day. Let me know that you’re home safe.”

“Okay.”

Mary had disappeared to the back of the apartment after Oscar left, but she returned and smiled at both of us. “Your Momma has agreed to talk to a therapist, Dilly. Dr. Wilcox will be by in an hour for her first session. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“That’s so wonderful,” I said. Mom was biting her bottom lip, folding and unfolding her hands in her lap, and tapping her toes, all clear signs that she was nervous, but she wasn’t full on freaking out. “I’m so proud of you, Momma.”

She nodded. “I don’t think talking to this woman will do any good, but Mary made a good point.” She looked over at Mary. “More than one good point. It’s time I let you live your life, Dilly. If me talking to this quack will give you some peace, then I guess I’ll do it.”

Crossing the room, I bent and hugged her. “Thank you, Momma. I love you.”

She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me back. “I love you, too. Daffodil. Why don’t you get to work so Mary and I can make this place look presentable before the doctor arrives?”

“Okay.” I hugged Mary and I left. Hope blossomed in my chest like a dangerous thing, but I held on to it, because somehow Mary had made more progress with my mother in one night than I’d made in years. Maybe Mary was the magic Mom and I had both needed for so long.

I made a quick call to work to let them know I’d be late, and then I took a detour to Oscar’s salt spa.

***

I pushed through the door to Oscar’s spa, a box in one hand, Buddy’s leash in the other, my heart pounding, ready to say the words that would fix everything, but he wasn’t behind the front desk. There was a woman with purple streaks in her hair, a nose ring, and bright blue eyes. She smiled at Buddy before she looked at me, her smile turning to a glare.

I stopped just inside the doorway. I’m no coward, but the woman had a good five inches and twenty pounds on me. “Is Oscar around?”

“He’s teaching a class right now. Can I take a message for him?”

I took a few steps toward three chairs arranged in a small waiting area. “Would it be okay if I waited for him? I really need to talk to him in person.”

She shrugged like it didn’t matter to her but didn’t stop glaring at me. “You’re the chick who broke Oscar’s heart, right?”

“I’m Dilly.”

She sniffed. “You here to cause him more pain?”

I fought the urge to tell her it wasn’t any of her business, because she actually could kick me out if she wanted. “I’m here to thank him for his help this morning and to apologize.”

Her glare faded into a warm smile. “Are you going to ask him to take you back? That is so sweet.”

“I doubt he’ll want me back.”

She drummed her nails on the counter top and studied me for a moment. “He’s not really teaching a class. He’s in his office. I’ll get him for you.”

My heart, which had finally settled down, resumed its manic pounding. She disappeared around a corner and, well before I was ready, Oscar was walking toward me, his expression warm but wary. I got to my feet and took a few steps toward him, not sure how welcome my advance would be.

“Dilly. Do you need me to take Buddy?”

My throat was tight, and it took me a few swallows to clear it enough to speak. Maybe this was a bad idea. Just because Mom was better now, it didn’t mean my life would suddenly be easier and…Oscar took a step toward me and smiled, and my fear vanished. It didn’t matter what the future held. The idea of shutting Oscar out of my life, of letting him walk away from me wasn’t something I’d be stupid enough to ever do again. He was all I wanted, and I was going to trust myself to be what he needed, to be his support and lover and friend in all the ways he was those things for me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I brought you muffins to apologize.”

He took a few more steps toward me and took the muffins. “What are you sorry for?”

“For pushing you away, for hurting you, for not giving us the chance we deserved.”

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